


Do You Want To Have Sex?

by LadyFangs



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 15:04:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11107050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFangs/pseuds/LadyFangs
Summary: An alternate take on a deleted scene from Season 2 Ep. 9Because Ragnar Lothbrok did indeed ask his ex-wife for sex. And he's only half-joking...





	Do You Want To Have Sex?

_"Do You Want to Have Sex?"_

 It was meant as a joke, something to break up the tension in the air. After all, tomorrow they would be heading into a battle that would likely result in a lot of deaths, and likely their own. Couldn’t he get one for the road?

It was supposed to make his ex-wife laugh. She was nervous about Bjorn heading into his first real battle—worried her only child could die. Of course, Ragnar already knew the answer. The seer had told him, Bjorn would be fine.

It had just jumped in his head and he’d said it before he even really thought about it.  

_Do you want to have sex?_

It was the question that gave him away. Lagertha had looked at Ragnar, a small smile playing at the edge of her lips. She had teased him with that smile, taunted him with it—like a game of keep-away, full of promise and the long silence that followed his request…he _knew_ she was thinking about it. And just knowing she was entertaining it was….

 “Goodnight, Ragnar.”

Fuck.

He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until he finally let it out and allowed himself to pout for a minute.

Well, at least she allowed him to save face. And it was just a joke anyway. No harm done.

.

.

_“Do you want to have sex?”_

Here they were, likely to die tomorrow, and all her ex-husband could think to say was, “do you want to have sex?”

It was completely ridiculous. Here they were in the middle of a camp under the direction of an idiot (King Horik), and Ragnar has sex on the brain. Of _course,_ Ragnar has sex on the brain.

She’d rolled her eyes and almost laughed aloud, had to bite her lip from doing so, but she’d failed to suppress a smile at the thought. And also of course, because they had been together for so long and still knew how the other thought, she knew that he _knew_ she was considering it.

The wagging eyebrows did make her laugh though. So she decided to let him down gently.

“Good night, _Ragnar_.”

She drew it out though, knowing damn well he loved it when she said his name.

.

.

“Goodnight, _Ragnar_.”

He’s been at attention for hours now, and there’s no relief in sight, save for his own hand, and that’s not doing anything for him right now.

His ex-wife doesn’t play fair.

It was wrong, absolutely criminal the way she said his name, letting it roll of her tongue like a purr. She knows exactly how he feels about the way she says his name. And right now, there are a lot of dirty thoughts swimming in his head right now about that tongue…

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Because really, that’s exactly what he wants to be doing right now.

Ok. So _maybe_ he hadn’t been joking.

Maybe he’d actually been kind of serious.

Actually, he was serious. Really serious. Super-serious. Like, almost-to-the-point-of-begging serious. That would be a new low. But he’s considering it…like, _really_ considering it…

_“Do you want to have sex?”_

Yes. Yes he does. Badly. 

.

.

Oh, _Freyja_.

Why couldn’t she have chosen another goddess to worship? It _had_ to be Freyja—goddess of love, sex, beauty, fertility, war, and death.

When Lagertha had chosen her goddess as a child she’d been more interested in the war and death part.

But the other things….

It’s cold outside but she’s running soooo hot and there’s no relief in sight. No, scratch that…there is relief…but--

Ugh.

 They will fight tomorrow and she _needs_ to get some damned sleep! But she can’t. And the soft furs are doing nothing but stimulating her in all the _wrong_ places.

And who decided THAT was a good shape for a sword? Lagertha throws her axe, sending the phallic-shaped weapon toppling to the ground.

_“Do you want to have sex?”_

No.

Maybe…

okay, okay, okay! Yes. Fine. Yes!

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Sigh…

Hands are a sorry substitute for a man.

.

.

He’s given up on sleep for the night. Who needs sleep anyway? Completely overrated. Does Odin sleep? (yes). Thor? (yes). Okay. Maybe he does need sleep. It’s been a complete shit-storm since their arrival in Wessex anyway. But it’s obvious the gods won’t let him rest tonight, so, it’s better to be doing something than nothing.

 He’s cleaned his armor three times, sharpened his axes twice.

Even his boots are clean (that had taken a lot more work than he’d thought and he doesn’t remember when the last time it was he’d cleaned those boots).

Maybe a run? Yes, a run, to scope out the battlefield, clear his head.

OUCH…

Maybe just a walk. Cause there’s a certain appendage that’s in the way of free movement right now. And perhaps he’ll take a more circular route…not for any reason in particular…

Okay. Fine.

Yes, he’s going in the direction of his ex-wife’s tent. But just to check and make sure everything is fine. She’s a woman, there are a lot of men around, and…

No? Not good enough justification?

Sigh.

Alright. He’s hoping she may still be awake.

There’s a soft rustling sound. Maybe she’s just changing position…

Oh.

Oh shit…

No… she’s not just—

Okay.

Maybe he should walk in another direction.

It’s soft. It’s so low any other person would miss it…but he doesn’t.

‘Cause it drives him fucking crazy when she says his name.

Oh how perfect. Woods. Yes. The woods are a good idea.

.

.

So this is not working. Her fingers aren’t long enough, they’re not thick enough, and they just can’t reach the spot where she really needs them to go.

Frustration mixed with desire is a horrible combination.

Okay, well, there are other things that can be done. Oh look! The sword is dirty—yes, that could be cleaned (never mind that it will be covered in blood tomorrow).

Ah, the axes! Yes. They definitely need to be sharpened…she works feverishly at those axes until the blades shine like new.

 And her armor. Lagertha washes it three times. She scrubs the boots hard putting far more energy into the task than even necessary (and who know when the last time they were cleaned).

But nope.

Still not tired.

Sigh…it’s really late now. No fires. No sounds outside…maybe a walk then.

Yes. Walk it off. Run it off. Running, that sounds good. Never mind that it’s the middle of the night in enemy territory. Never mind that she’s a Viking on English soil and that there are people who want to kill her…yeah. Running sounds good. Really good.

Oh no…uh uh.  

Too much friction! Too much friction! Okay. Maybe walking is better. Yes. Much better. Perhaps just a slow stroll around the camp…or maybe just head into the woods. Yes. The woods are a good idea.

 .

.

_Oh Odin save me._

Her moans are stuck in his head and they will not give him any peace. And now, he’s low. He’s really low. Low to the point that he’s in the woods, stroking himself to the sound of his ex-wife moaning his name.

 There is absolutely no lower he can go. Until she actually appears, catching him with his hand on his –

He sees the slow smile spread across her face as she walks up to him slowly, circling, circling, drawing closer and closer, until she’s right up on his chest, replacing his hand with her own and taking her sweet, precious time building up a rhythm.

She catches his lips, letting her tongue trace the outline of his mouth, and biting his lower lip gently. It’s a test of willpower and control, as that magical tongue winds its way on his neck, and those lovely hands continue to cast their spell on his…

But it all goes sideways when she whispers in his ear, her voice low and breathy, a sensual purr…

_“Do you want to have sex?”_

Fuck yes.

And that’s what they do. And they absolutely do not care if they wake the whole damn camp. And yes—they indeed woke the camp. And the English troops gathered on the hill. And the old farmer in the closest town swears that it sounds like two wild animals going at it.

It’s all hands and bodies, and parts and pleasure and sweat and sex and its dirty and its totally nasty and rough, and there will be cuts and bruises and maybe a little blood cause Lagertha’s fingernails are stinging his back, and there’s a tree root scratching at Ragnar’s ass and maybe he banged a knee against the tree and maybe she went too far with teeth, and its highly likely that she’s trying to drown him with what’s flowing from between her legs, but damn it tastes soo good and thank the gods for armor ‘cause the hand prints on her ass will be there for a while and her nipples will be sore in the morning and there will be no concealing that bite mark on her neck and oh yeah! he’s hitting just the right spot and she’s soo glad he’s a son of Odin right now cause like WHOA _how_ had she forgot how big he was? and oh shit! If they’re not about to cum, and yup-- it totally smells and by the time they finish with each other they’ll both be walking with a limp and of course their son will be completely embarrassed and Rollo will look at them with stank face and Floki will laugh his ass off and neither of them really give two fucks what anyone says or thinks because the way they are making each other feel is right and wrong and wow and oh! and Damn they REALLY needed this cause she hasn’t fucked in four years—at least not like this-- and if he’s honest with himself neither has he—at least not like this--and no one can do her like he does and it’s been waaayyyy too long since he had her and he cannot believe he’d forgotten how tight it was and oh! He hit the side wall and made it hurt, and ow! She came down at a bad angle and made him REALLY hurt…and it’s just enough to slow them down…

…and maybe he still loves her… and maybe she still loves him--no, she really loves him, and he really loves her and yes, he was stupid and he’s sorry for it every day, and please, please, PLEASE come back…

But she can’t, and she won’t, because he’s still married to someone else, and she took those vows seriously, and she can’t risk her heart again. It’s not about love, it’s about trust, and what good is she if she can’t give him more sons? and how she feels she has failed him, and that all of this is somehow her fault, and maybe she got what she deserved, and that’s fucked up-- but it’s her truth and she can’t take it back, because she really wants more babies with him; She still feels that they were born to be together, meant to be together but her pride won’t let her say yes and it makes her angry that she still cares, that she hasn’t been able to get over it and she hates him for that… will always hate him for that and that she’s torn between staying and leaving, because she can’t live with him, but living without him has been hell and…does he understand?

And he tells her that he still prays to the gods that they will let him give her another baby, and that he hasn’t given up on them--will never give up on them because she is the only woman he’s ever loved-- and he trusts her more than anyone else. He knows she’s the only woman he ever will love and tells her that their hopes and dreams and fears are the same and they are the same, and that what’s done is done, but it doesn’t have to stay that way forever.  What was it that Athelstan said about Adam and Eve? That she is his rib, his strength, his weakness, that he’s building an empire for her and that when he’s gone it’s hers to take and he can’t do it without her, doesn’t want to do it by himself because he knows damn well that its Lagertha that makes him tick, and yes he’s an ass, and yes, he’s unworthy of her love, doesn’t deserve it, has done nothing to earn it but please, PLEASE don’t leave because he’s teetering on the edge of darkness and light and the darkness is winning and there’s too much truth here…does she understand?

.

.

_“Do you want to have sex? She whispers into his ear, her voice raspy now from overuse._

_“No,” he says, completely hoarse now. “I want to make love.”_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
